Loose Ends
by aclj87
Summary: Spoilers: Takes places after Season 3 finale. Mary goes on a search for her father.


**Author's note**: This takes place right after the season three finale. I really can't be bothered writing out that whole Mary-in-Mexico-with-Faber scene. We all know how it goes. All the _In Plain Sight_ characters belong to USA Network. No copyright infringement intended! Oh, I haven't written a piece of fiction for, a good eight years, so go easy!

_**1.15 a.m.**_

Mary Shannon woke up with a start, inhaling sharply. She had fallen asleep on her couch while going through the box of vacation brochure her mother had brought over. "What the hell?" she wondered out loud. The dream felt so real, so lucid. She swore she skin felt sun-kissed, and that she could smell the ocean.

She took a look at the object in her right hand – a book she had found her mother's box of travel brochure. A _romance_ novel with a blond woman in a pink dress with a look of ecstasy on her face, in the embrace of an olive skinned hard body on the beach – let out a small cry of disgust, and tossed the book back into the box.

Her nimble fingers worked her way through the tangles of her long, blond hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, which she secured using the hair tie she kept around her left wrist. She stood in front of her refrigerator, studying its contents – leftover pizza, a container of soup her mother had made, a few pieces of fruit Brandi had left behind, and a few questionable boxes of Chinese takeaway. Settling for a slice of cold pizza and a bottle of cold beer, she sat at the kitchen counter and replayed the dream in her mind.

_On a beach in Mexico with Faber? _The notion was almost preposterous.

She exhaled loudly, swallowed the last of the pizza and took another swig of her beer. Her gaze turned towards a particular bottle of wine on her cabinet. It was the bottle Faber had given to her the night he left Albuquerque.

_ "Alright, well, I'll see you around," FBI Special Agent Mike Faber said, standing on her porch._

_ Mary was taken aback, unsure on how to proceed. "Yeah, that'd be, uh –."_

_ "Unlikely?" Faber suggested. "Revolting? Destined to end in court? What?"_

_ She sighed. Although she was absolutely flattered by his advances, she had only recently gotten out of a long term relationship – a relationship which almost saw her down the aisle in a pretty white dress in July. "Why is it so hard?"_

That little encounter had been in May, when the Faber had come down to Albuquerque with a witness. To be honest, she was quite surprised by his interest considering the last time she had heard from him before that was when he had rung to let her know that he was sending a witness for a human trafficking case.

Downing the last of her beer, she picked up her cell phone and scrolled through the contact list. Her finger hovered over the green "Call" button. She had enjoyed Faber's company while he was in Albuquerque. That "I like you" speech he had given her in her living room had made her feel wanted. She yearned to feel that way since Raph walked out on her, leaving her emotionally destitute.

_"It's not hard, really. It's, uh, easy," Faber replied._

Easy.

"Damn it," she said under her breath as she swept up her keys and headed towards her car. The drive had been quick due to the lack of traffic that time of the night. She pulled up on to the familiar driveway and killed the engine. The only light on in the entire house was the porch light. She couldn't decide if she should go up to the front door, or turn around and go home. Against her better judgment, she reached for the door, pushed it open and stepped out.

Much to her dismay, the garage door activated and crawled open. She panicked and tripped over her own feet as she scrambled back into the car, slamming her shin against the car. "What the hell am I doing?" she wondered out loud, resting her head on the steering wheel.

"Mary?" Marshall called out as he exited the garage. She could see him squinting to get a better look into the dark interior of her car. "What are you doing?" He put one hand on the roof of the car and another on the door, leaning down.

Mary lifted her head, and feigned surprise. "Hey! Coming home from a hot date?" She swallowed hard and studied her partner's appearance. He a tinge of red in his cheeks and a hint of alcohol on his breath.

"Um, no. It was mambo night with Stan and Eleanor," he replied. He stood up straight and offered her his hand. "Come on, I had quite a bit to drink tonight and I desperately need to micturate."

Mary got out of the car without his help and shot him a scowl. "I didn't need that image of you and Stan doing the mambo." She grabbed the keys from his hand and marched towards the front door, unlocking it for him. "Please don't say micturate."

He followed closely behind her, humming a few upbeat tunes along the way. As soon as she got the front door open, he pushed pass her, hung his jacket on the coat rack and made his way to the bathroom in his bedroom. She shook her head and made her way to his living room. "Doofus," she muttered under her breath as she landed heavily on the couch.

* * *

Instead of zipping up his pants after he finished, he kicked off his boots and stripped down to his boxers. Marshall Mann leaned against the sink and stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His skin was flushed, his eyes were bloodshot and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears, courtesy of the continuous flow of cocktails Stan and Eleanor had provided him with. A night of dancing and alcohol was a welcomed reprieve to take his mind off the ache in his heart.

This was the first time since her breakup with Raph that Mary appeared happy and at peace. Her mother and sister had finally moved out, eliminating a _huge_ source of stress in her life. She _appears_ to have come to terms with her father's absence. Things were falling into place for her. This was the first time he thought the time was right to tell Mary how he felt. Unfortunately, his attempt to tell her how he felt had gone past her. Well, he hoped that was the reason. It physically hurt him to think that his speech had led her to think about Faber, instead of the one standing in front of her.

Marshall took another look at his reflection and sighed. He turned on the tap and splashed some water on his face. The cold water stung his face, but he welcomed the pain. He needed to be more awake if he was going to deal with Mary right now. He couldn't trust himself, especially this drunk. He dried his face and made his way to his bedroom.

The last time he was drunk was the day Mary told him that she had told Raphael about her job. He had been upset at her for the entire day, and had ended up at the office with Mary's bottle of whiskey. That night he had come close to telling Mary that he loved her.

Truth be told, he wasn't upset that she had revealed to Raph what they do. He was upset because her telling Raph she was a WITSEC officer meant that her relationship with Raphael was real – that Mary belonged to someone else. The engagement ring she wore was something he could ignore. But someone like Mary sharing something so _personal_ with someone else meant that the relationship was real.

"Hey, doofus," Mary called out from the living room, shattering his train of thought. "Are you all right in there?"

"I'll be out in a minute," he called back. He grabbed a pair of t-shirt and pajama pants from his wardrobe and put them on before making his way in to the living room. He cringed when he saw Mary propping her feet on her coffee table, boots on and all, but a small smile formed on his lips when he saw she had used a coaster for the beers.

Mary raised her eyebrows at the sight of Marshall. "No funky PJ's tonight?" She reached forward and grabbed a bottle of beer and held it out for him. "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

Marshall sat down next to her and took the proffered bottle. His fingers brushed against hers. That simple contact sent a chill down his spine. His heart started racing, but he wasn't sure if it was from her touch, or the alcohol. "It started with Margarita's, and then it's all a blur of colors, maraschino cherries and mini umbrella's. Did you know it was believed that that the first cocktail umbrella was introduced by Victor Bergeron in San Francisco in 1932, but they stopped using it when importation of the cocktail umbrellas halted during World War II?"

"Jesus, Marshall," Mary muttered. He wasn't certain if she was cursing at the amount he drank, or the minutia he had just shared.

Marshall leant forward and put the beer on the coffee table. Instead of leaning back, he shifted his body slightly so that he was facing Mary. "What are you doing here, Mary?"

* * *

While Marshall had been in the bathroom, Mary had time to reflect. _What am I doing here?_ She paced around the living room and studied the paraphernalia in it. Family photos lined one of tier of the bookshelf. She couldn't help but smile when she saw a photo of Marshall in his graduation regalia, grinning, proudly holding up his diploma. She moved down the collage of family holidays, feeling wistful that she didn't have any photos to reflect any happy memories of her own. The last photo wiped the smile off her face. It was a photo of Marshall and his father at Seth Mann's retirement party, arms around each other.

She began to reminisce about the day the older Mann was in town. Although Marshall and Seth's relationship was not the ideal father-son relationship, he was in the picture. Unlike her own father who had walked out on her, leaving her to take care of an infant sister and an alcoholic mother two days before her seventh birthday. A father, whom, she recently discovered, had another family where he was the perfect father.

Although she had said it out loud that she didn't need him in her life anymore, she knew deep down that it was just a lie to sooth her broken heart. For over 27 years she believed that she was her father's special girl, that they had a special bond with him which was unbreakable.

_Marshall followed closely as Mary stormed out of the office. She was at her wits end, and she had snapped at Eleanor. She paced on the balcony of the Sunshine Building the day Agent O'Connor arrested Brandi. _"_If your father's still alive, if he's still out there somewhere… I just can't believe he would want his daughter to suffer the way you're suffering."_

She had held on to the hope that her father would someday return to her, but all of that promptly disappeared with she found out about Lauren and then later on her half brother, who coincidentally was a gambler.

Mary continued to scan the contents of his bookshelf. Origami animals littered any free space on the shelf. His books weren't arranged in alphabetical order. _Probably using the Dewey Decimal System_, she decided. His collection ranged from fiction to biographies to medical to history to psychology to – Mary had to lean closer to make sure she hadn't misread – conspiracy theories. "Huh," she exclaimed, although she wasn't completely surprised.

The sound of the toilet flushing prompted her to look in the direction of his bedroom. She waited for half a minute before deciding he wasn't coming out yet. She made her way to his kitchen, and starting going through his mail. She shuffled through then unopened pile, skimming for anything interesting, but all there was were bills, a newsletter from the community college and several magazine subscriptions. She swapped the unopened pile for an opened one.

She held her breath and strained to listen for signs of Marshall's exit from the bathroom. The sound of water running from the tap indicated that she had time to continue going through his mail. She did something out of character and hesitated for a few seconds. _It's not like I'm going to read them_, she reasoned with herself.

A hand addressed envelope with a New York postmark caught her attention. She studied the return address – unfamiliar – however, the name one she knew. _S. Garfinkel_. Her heart pounded in her chest. _Rabbi Samuel Garfinkel._

_ They walked down the halls of the hospital. All that drama with her witness and his wife were resolved, and everyone was safe and happy."I just want to say, well, families are like puzzles. They fit together in a certain way. And when one of the pieces is missing, it throws everything off."_

_ Mary scoffed, but she was listening closely. He had a quality in him that made her _not_ dislike him. "Okay, is there a point in there somewhere?"_

_ "Yeah. The point," he started, "The point is that I find people, Mary. All kinds of people. No matter how long they've been gone. I find them." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a card. "So, just in case." _

_ Mary took the card and he walked away._

The sudden silence registered with Mary. She straightened the letters and put them back where she found them. "Hey, doofus. Are you all right in there?" she called out while pulling two beers out of the fridge, popped the caps off and headed back towards the living room.

She heard the muffled sounds of drawers closing and Marshall's reply, "I'll be out in a minute." She contemplated just placing the bottles directly on the table, but her guilty conscience had forced her to use a coaster. Going through his mail was bad enough. She didn't need him to be upset at her for leaving water rings on his table.

Dissatisfied at the thought of pleasing Marshall with the coaster use, Mary propped her feet on the table. "There!" she said smugly to no one in particular.

Marshall appeared quietly from his bedroom and sat down next to her. He took the bottle of beer she held out and held it in his lap. Mary asked him how much he had to drink, and he proceeded to share a useless trivia about paper umbrellas.

"What are you doing here, Mary?" he inquired gently. Although his eyes were bloodshot and half closed, they still bore straight into her soul. There were times when she swears that when Marshall looks into her eyes, he was actually _in_ her head, rummaging through her thoughts. This was one of them and it made her uneasy.

Mary didn't say anything. Instead, she avoided his gaze and focused on peeling the label off the bottle in her hand. "I went through your mail," she confessed quietly, but quickly added, "But I didn't read any of them." She tilted her face slightly to see Marshall's reaction.

He was still looking at her, lips pressed together. She could see that he was gritting his teeth. His face was still red, whether from the alcohol or anger, she couldn't be sure. After a long, agonizing pause, he spoke. "I contacted Sam shortly after we reunited Walter with his biological father. I know you said that you don't want to find your father, but…" he voice trailed off. "Mary, I have watched you hurt for too long. You need closure. _If_ you father is dead, you need to know for sure. And if he isn't, you need to find him and see him, talk to him, yell at him, shoot him if you have to."

Mary just stared at him, mouth agape. She wasn't sure how to feel, or even how she felt. Part of her felt betrayed that he had gone behind her back, but another part was grateful. Since she joined the USMS, she had considered utilizing their resources to find her father. Countless times had she entered her father's name into the search engine. But faith held her back from hitting "Enter". Faith that one day, when the time was right, her father would come back in to her life and make everything whole again.

"In all of the seven years that I've known you, this is the first time where your life is not in chaos. You actually have peace. Use this time to close old wounds." He was waiting for Mary to lash out at him, but she remained silent. "I will help you."

**TBC...**


End file.
